Day in brief:
1088 words of book written. Horses done. (Even performed the lovely task of picking up the dung. Very levelling, looking after equines.) Stanley the Dog introduced to The Window Cleaner, a most important and much loved man in my life. ‘Stanley,’ I say, ‘this is The Window Cleaner, the nicest man in Scotland.’ I am prone to hyperbole, but I really think this might be empirically correct. One dangling modifier spotted on the Today programme; naughty, naughty Mr Naughtie.
Now I may take the afternoon and watch some tremendous racing from Leopardstown. I shall be shouting for the glorious Flemenstar in the Lexus. He’s a real big bonny sort of horse, with an honest head and a slight Roman nose, and a soaring talent. If he stays three miles, I think he might be a very thrilling prospect for the Gold Cup in March. All roads lead to Cheltenham. Each day, I sneak onto the ante-post section of the William Hill website, and dream my little dreams. The blood of my dear old dad courses strongly through my veins. How he would have loved to see these good horses coming through. And how he would have grumbled at the short prices. I think of him almost every day, but I miss him a lot at this time of year.
More pictures from Christmas Day:
Can’t get enough of the coos:
Moss and birches:
The Older Niece and The Man in the Hat (for once without a titfer), with dogs: